


It's only temporary, but what do I do?

by frozensight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensight/pseuds/frozensight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breaking up is hard, but sometimes what's even harder is putting the pieces back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's only temporary, but what do I do?

**Author's Note:**

> songs suggested for listening as they inspired this fic:  
> By Now  
> Fallout  
> So Soon  
> -all by Marianas Trench
> 
> actually just listen to the entire Ever After album it will change your life

Castiel didn’t want to be standing there at the door, hand jerking up and down but not knocking. What he really wanted was to be on the other side, maybe making lunch or lounging on the couch watching some frivolous animal documentary that Dean insisted was awesome as well as educational. But most of all what Castiel wanted was to not be in this position.

His hand finally met the door and that lone knock was all he could manage, but that had been all he’d needed because Dean opened the door only a couple moments later.

“C-Cas...” Dean’s eyes went wide, and then proceeded to narrow a little. He was still upset. Funny, so was Castiel.

“I was putting stuff away when I realized that I’d left a few things here, so I came to get them.” 

Dean’s face became tighter, but he pushed the door open a little further and stood back. Castiel walked past him, forcing himself to keep going when his hand accidentally brushed against Dean’s. 

It seemed that Dean had been busy in the couple days since Castiel had been in their-- _Dean’s_ apartment last. Or maybe it was just because Dean hadn’t bothered to take the time to clean up after himself so everything just looked different. Either way, the fact it looked different and _normal_ made his stomach churn a little. He hurried past the living room and kitchen and entered the bedroom before realizing that his destination would be infinitely worse. 

The bed was neatly made, and it didn’t look like anything had changed since Castiel had last seen it. Everything was just as it had been except there was a distinctly empty side of the closet, and one of the nightstands’ tops looked like it was missing a personalized touch. The only lived in feature of the room was the dirty clothes of Dean’s that were scattered about. 

Pointedly not staring at the bed, Castiel went over to the nightstand on the left side of the bed and opened the drawers one by one, removing various little items he had left there. A few books, a couple pens, and his notebook were all that remained inside, but taking them out was still as painful as when he’d had to get all of his shower things from the bathroom. He stood up, the notebook and novels tucked under one arm while he stuck the pens in a pocket. 

“That it?” Dean’s voice was harsh, eager for him to leave. Castiel looked in his direction, but didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“All that I can think of, yes.”

“If I find anything else, I’ll send it on to you.”

 _Which means you’ll give it to Sam and make him bring it to me._ Castiel thought bitterly as he replied, “I would appreciate it.”

He made it halfway through the joined living room and kitchen before Dean called out his name, and for the barest moment Castiel thought that maybe they were going to talk about this like adults. That they would work past this hurdle and he could set down what he was holding and trade it for Dean instead. That he could stay the night and start bringing his stuff back in the morning.

Castiel turned around and found Dean offering him a couple pieces of mail.

“These are addressed to you.” Dean spoke in a gentler tone, but there was no sign he wanted to reconcile things. Whatever hope Castiel had been gathering in his heart left, and he took the letters wordlessly.

“I was going to the post office to change my address tomorrow,” he muttered, staring down at the three lines that mocked him.

Dean just nodded, and Castiel couldn’t tell if the noncommittal motion hurt worse than anything he might have said instead. He turned to leave again, but he found himself stopping once more when he saw the couch again. It was rumpled and messy, with blankets and pillows on it, and Castiel swallowed roughly when he realized that Dean had been sleeping on the couch when the bed was right there.

“It feels wrong since we bought it for _us_.” Castiel jumped slightly at Dean’s quiet voice from beside him, and it took a vast amount of effort to not examine Dean’s face to fully gauge his current emotions.

For the second time, Castiel geared himself to leave the apartment--feasibly for the last time--when he noticed something on the couch near the pillow. “Is that my sweater?”

He swore he felt Dean tense up despite the couple feet between them. “I-Is it? I thought it was mine...”

The longer Castiel stared at it, the more certain he became that it was his. Gabriel had given it to him as a joke a couple Christmas’ ago because what’s funnier than giving your little brother with a religious name a bible for his birthday? Giving him a sweater with little angels all over it and the words ‘always watching over us’ stitched onto the front. It was stupid looking, but Castiel had come to love it all the same, if only because of the way it made him feel when Dean would wear it.

“Oh you’re right. I must be confusing it with the sweater I left at Anna’s.” He forced himself to pivot slowly so that he faced Dean and gave him a small smile. “Well I guess I’ll be going then. Thank you for giving me my mail. I’ll...I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, no problem.” It didn’t escape Castiel that Dean didn’t comment on whether they would see each other around or not, but he also didn’t feel like starting yet another argument by asking.

Instead he walked through the doorway and closed his eyes as he listened to the door shut gently behind him. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and make Dean talk to him, but he knew it wouldn’t go well.

Castiel opened his eyes and walked to the stairs, with the remnants of what he and Dean had been clutched in his hands.

((this just feels so soon))

Dean had a hard time spending more than a few minutes at a time in the bedroom. He went in to get his clothes, and left to change in the bathroom in the hall, where he also showered now because the bedroom’s adjoining bathroom still smelled like Castiel’s aftershave even a couple weeks later. He slept on the couch, something he hadn’t done this regularly since he was in college and drunken stupors declared making it all the way to the bed to be overrated, because sleeping on the bed that he and Castiel picked out and bought together would be more painful than the constant crick in his neck.

Sam told him everyday that they were both being stupid, and Dean had gotten to the point where he’d rather watch Lifetime nonstop than listen to lectures on relationships from his little brother. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the concern--he just wanted to stop being reminded how much of a fuck-up he was at dating.

Because deep down he felt Castiel had a right to be pissed off at him. He had been taking Castiel’s presence in his life for granted, not bothering to look any further into the future despite having lived together for almost six months and dated for almost two years. He had known Castiel would want more, not necessarily written in stone, just hints at the eventual. But he hadn’t even tried because he was a goddamn coward. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he’d made it that far with Castiel. Sam could attest to the amount of women (and some men) he’d broken up with the moment cohabitation came into view.

It sucked because there were still nights when Dean would wake up and wonder blearily why Castiel hadn’t made him come to bed before he would remember why he had been laying on the couch instead of the bed in the first place. He missed Castiel. Seeing him for a few minutes the other week had been _painful_. Dean picked up the sweater Castiel had noticed and gave it a small smile. He knew it was Castiel’s and he knew Castiel knew it, and that probably was the worst bit of it all.

((this just feels so soon))

“You need to get out, Dean,” began Sam the next time Dean actually answered his phone, “It’s not good to only leave for work. Do you even _have_ food anymore?”

“Pizza delivers.”

“Christ, Dean, what about breakfast?”

“There’s still a couple packets of poptarts left.” Dean neglects to mention the donut-coffee shop down the street because it’s where Castiel used to get them breakfasts on Saturdays.

“This is no way to live, Dean. Can you come over sometime this weekend, _please_? Jess is going to be making your favorite.”

“I’ll have to pass.”

“Dean--”

“The last time I ate country fried steak my boyfriend moved out of our apartment the next day, Sam.” That shut him up, thank _God_ , but Dean found himself wanting to give his little brother something and maybe a little part of him wanted to get out too. “I’m going to go to the grocery store, okay? I need milk to go with the poptarts.”

“Want some company?”

He knew Sam would join him even though he lived twenty minutes away, but the need to be alone still lingered heavily. “No, I’ll be alright.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Sam.”

“And you’ll call if you change your mind or you need anything?”

“ _Yes_ , Sam.”

“Okay, well I have to go to class now. Talk to you later, Dean.”

“See ya, Sammy.”

Dean closed his phone and gazed around at the living room, cringing at how cluttered and dirty it’d become over the past couple weeks.

“Guess I should clean this up before I go out.” He sighed as he slipped his phone into his pocket and began gathering all the trash scattered around the couch and the coffee table. He wasn’t even going to think about what lay in waiting amongst the dirty dishes in the sink.

((this just feels so soon))

Grocery shopping is harder than he remembered. Not only does he have to make a list of everything he needs (you know, once he figures out what he does need), but once he gets to the store, he then has to choose a brand.

“What’s the fucking difference?” grumbled Dean as he pushed his cart, which was only a fourth full, down the bread aisle. Not only was there twenty different brands of bread, but within each brand was at least ten different kinds of bread. “I just want _bread_.”

“Nature’s Own, wheat,” said a voice from behind Dean, a voice he’d recognize anywhere. He spun on his heels and saw Castiel standing there with a tiny fond smile on his face.

Dean glanced at the wall of bread and when he’d spotted the one mentioned by Castiel, he grabbed it. “T-Thanks.”

“You always were hopeless when given more than three options.”

He wanted to laugh, but the way Castiel watched him caused it to catch in his throat. Somehow he managed to say, “I just want to buy my groceries and go home, why do food companies have to make it so difficult?”

Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but was prevented from doing so when another man approached them, talking as he held two different boxes. “Hey Castiel, do we want to make chocolate chip cake or chocolate chip brownies?” The man paused when he saw Dean, and Dean got the impression that everything suddenly became immensely awkward. “Dean! Fancy meeting you here! How are you?”

Dean’s eyes shifted from the man to Castiel, unsure why this guy knew his name. Castiel seemed to pick up on this uncertainty and said, “Dean, I’m staying with Inias until I can find my own place.”

Now he remembered the man. Inias was a co-worker of Castiel’s, and apparently his current roommate. He ignored the burn in his stomach at the thought.

“Inias, right, hey. I’m doing...fine.” The lie weighed heavy on his tongue, but only Castiel noticed. Of _course_ Castiel fucking noticed, he was the only who ever could besides Sam and Bobby. “Well, it was nice seeing you again. Thanks for the help with the bread!”

He thought he heard Inias whisper something when his back was turned, but the only thing he paid attention to was the fact that he could feel Castiel’s eyes on him as he walked all the way down the aisle.

((this just feels so soon))

Dean managed to get most of the frozen/refrigerated goods put away before the encounter at the store caught up with him. Castiel had said he was looking for an apartment, but he’d gotten the impression that he wasn’t looking _hard_.

 _Because he’s happy with Inias_ , whispered the snide voice in his head.

And why wouldn’t he be? Inias seemed like a nice guy, and had been friendly every time Dean remembered seeing him. Of course Castiel would be happy with him; he was probably happier with Inias than he’d been with Dean. Fuck, Inias was probably exactly what Castiel needed. A sweet, emotionally stable and expressive boyfriend. That’s what Castiel had wanted from him, right? They broke up because Dean had trouble expressing his feelings and giving back what he got. Before Castiel, his relationships had all been largely one-sided because he’d had one too many girlfriends that he’d cared about more than they him.

The end result was him having issues with trust and commitment. He was fucked up, and Dean knew it. It had only been a matter of time before Castiel realized it and moved on. Sam would have punched him for wallowing about something he’d “worked out” for himself, but Dean felt pretty confident in his conclusion if they were baking _brownies_.

He threw an empty beer bottle at the wall, instantly regretting the motion as it shattered and glass went everywhere. Instead of getting up and sweeping up the pieces, Dean rolled over on the couch and faced the back of it, the stupid angel sweater in his arms.

((this just feels so soon))

“You’ve got to do something Castiel; I think he’s getting _worse_.”

Castiel sighed into the phone as he continued to type away at the spreadsheet for work. “Sam, what is there for me to do? We broke up; he doesn’t want to see me.”

“Cas he’s _miserable_. I bet if you just talk to him that--”

“Talking only works if he decides to open up and let me help him. It’s why we broke up, after all.” He huffed as he shifted so that he could hold the phone better. “I could only take so many emotionally stunted conversations, Sam. I still love him, but how can I help him if he can’t even say he loves himself?”

Now it was Sam who sighed, and Castiel honestly felt bad that he was caught up in the middle of all this. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good luck with that.”

Sam snorted and said a quick goodbye before hanging up. He set his phone down, a small ache in his gut at the fact his phone background was a generic sample photo of an apple instead of the picture of him and Dean at the fair last year. Dean had grinned so widely and Castiel couldn’t remember laughing harder.

He flipped the phone over and went back to his spreadsheet. He needed to have it done yesterday.

((this just feels so soon))

It’d gotten easier, not thinking about Dean.

It was a little more than a month since the break up, three days since he’d last talked with Sam, and two weeks since he’d seen Dean at the grocery store. Castiel liked to think he was doing pretty well, all things considering. No, he wasn’t “back on the market” because more than a small part of him was hoping Sam would get through his idiotic brother’s thick head and they would finally sit and talk about this.

When it came to be halloween and Castiel still hadn’t heard positive news back from Sam, that hope began to really diminish.

“Aww, come on, Castiel; Dean’s just trying to suck up his pride to come talk to you, I know it!”

He gave Inias a withered look over his cup of vodka and cranberry juice. “He’s been sucking up his pride for nigh three months, Inias.”

Inias didn’t respond, and Castiel focused on his drink, it was after all the only reason he’d even come to the ridiculous party that Inias had pestered and pestered him about. He hadn’t even bothered to get a costume because it’d been awhile since he hadn’t had a partner to coordinate costumes with.

Castiel ended up leaving only an hour after arriving because Jo Harvelle, a colleague of Dean’s showed up and that was one conversation Castiel didn’t feel like having.

Inias came back to the apartment they were still sharing to find Castiel curled up on the couch watching the marathon of Dr. Sexy MD halloween specials. Silently, Inias grabbed some ice cream from the freezer and two spoons before he sat down next to Castiel.

They sat there in silence, eating out of the carton until a few commercial breaks had passed and Inias said, “Maybe you need to go see him?”

“What on earth would that prove, Inias?”

“That you haven’t given up on him.”

Castiel met Inias’ eyes, and he found himself laughing as he dug his spoon into the still hard ice cream.

“No,” he began as he took the spoon up to his mouth, “No I haven’t.” 

((this just feels so soon))

Dean hadn’t meant to jump when he heard his name in that familiar voice, but he did and he had almost dropped his fresh and very hot coffee all over himself. He turned slowly, not sure if this was a thing that could happen again, and made himself smile when he saw that indeed, there was Castiel standing there.

“Hey, Castiel. Fancy meeting you here.” The unspoken reminder that the donut shop they were both standing in had formerly been their favorite Saturday joint hung between them. “I was just...getting some coffee.”

“I see; I was just getting some as well.” They didn’t meet eyes, just sort of stared at the other’s general direction without focusing on anything specific, and all Dean could think of is how fucking awkward this was.

“Is Inias with you?” So of course he had to make it more awkward.

That seemed to catch Castiel off guard because he got that adorable confused expression and said, “No, he’s at the apartment with Andriel; I’m actually out to give them some alone time.”

Now Dean was the one confused. “Alone time?”

“Yes? You of all people should know how uncomfortable it can be to have a roommate lurking around when you want to be with your boyfriend.”

Yes, Dean could vividly remember all the many times Andy hadn’t gotten the hint and left them alone to watch a movie together. Andy had been a decent roommate, but Dean wasn’t sure that he actually missed living with him.

“But I thought you and Inias were...I thought that you two had--”

It took a moment, but sure enough, Castiel started laughing, and God was it just as Dean remembered. “Dean, is that why you got so weird at the grocery store?”

“I didn’t get _weird_.”

Castiel rolled his eyes in that way he always did when Dean wouldn’t admit to something and Castiel found it endearing rather than annoying.

“No, you just got jealous because I was making brownies with him.”

“How was I supposed to know the brownies weren’t a euphemism?!”

“Because he was holding a box of brownie mix.”

Dean opened his mouth, sure of the retort on his tongue, but then he caught sight of the small smile on Castiel’s face and how it made his stomach churn. His hand that had raised to make his point, lowered itself back to his side and he shook his head slightly as he met Castiel’s eyes.

“We’re being idiots.”

“No,” began Castiel as he took a step closer to Dean, coffee held securely in one hand while the other hid in one of his pockets, “You’re being an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot by association for allowing me to be an idiot.”

Their eyes locked and Dean hardly even noticed how close they’d gotten because Castiel’s face was before him and it’d been so long that he refused to look away. He felt certain that maybe they would kiss, or at least sit at one of the small tables by the window and drink their coffee together, but the incessant ringing from Castiel’s coat pocket ordered for a third surprise option.

Castiel winced as he stepped back from Dean and pulled his phone out to answer it. “Hello? Oh, okay. Yes, I can be there in a few minutes. No, it’s no trouble I was already out. You’re welcome. See you soon.” He hung up the phone and looked back at Dean with an apologetic expression.

He sighed, but couldn’t erase the smile from his face. “You have to go.”

“Andre needs help with one of the programs; he’s the intern. I can’t just leave him to flounder.”

“I thought that was exactly what being an intern was all about?”

With a playful shove to Dean’s shoulder, Castiel took another step closer to the door. He still had a smile on his face too as he replied, “Sometimes we like to take pity on them.”

“Don’t spoil them too much.”

“I won’t.”

The moment stretched between them, oddly hopeful and yet immensely awkward. Neither knew what to say in parting, but both felt the need for something to be said. Dean shocked himself by being the first one to wave and say, “I guess I’ll see you then. You’ve got to go help that poor intern, right?”

Castiel nodded, waving jerkily before saying, “Later, Dean.”

He walked out of the donut shop, and Dean remembered where they had been talking. Glancing around, none of the few patrons in there were paying attention to him, though the owner at the cash register was eyeing him a little too knowingly. He took one more sip of his coffee before throwing it into the trash can and walking out of the shop, hands stuffed into his pockets as a way of persuading himself that he shouldn’t follow Castiel to work and go home instead. They just had their first actual conversation since they broke up; he can’t go _following_ _him to work_.

Dean had gone three blocks before he realized that while in his head he’d been yelling at himself to go back to his apartment, his feet had automatically taken him towards the building where Castiel worked. He could see it several more blocks down the street, and a reminder flashed through his mind that they chose the apartment because of its proximity to his work. He spun on his heel and marched back towards the donut shop and the apartment.

He made it half a block before he turned back around and with a refined purpose, practically jogged towards Castiel’s work building. 

((this just feels so soon))

“And then you just hit enter.” Castiel stood up straight as he finished explaining the program (again) to Andre, the newest intern at their company.

“Thanks Castiel. I think I’ve finally gotten it this time.” He smiled up at Castiel, and Castiel couldn’t maintain a frustrated expression. Andre was a slow learner, but a hard worker.

“I certainly hope so. You’re lucky I was out, otherwise you would’ve been stuck here trying to figure it out by yourself.” He clapped Andre on the back and picked up his bag from the floor. “Now excuse me, I should get going.”

“Thanks again!”

Castiel nodded as he walked away from Andre and towards the elevators. It was just a short trip down to the lobby and then he could go back to Inias’ and hope that they’d finally left for their date. His mind hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Dean at the donut shop because he honestly hadn’t expected to see him there. Sam had been keeping him updated with Dean’s overall well-being and Castiel had gotten the impression that Dean didn’t get out too much.

He sighed as he stepped off the elevator, Dean, once again, very much on his mind. Eyes were focused on the tile floor in front of him until he heard his name being called.

“Cas!”

He stopped walking because there, just in front of the receptions desk was Dean, chest heaving the barest amount. Dean remained where he was, the receptionist glancing between them in confusion.

“...Dean did you _run_ here?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, a nervous grin on his face, and Castiel could tell that he wanted to come closer but prevented himself from doing so, probably scared that he wasn’t allowed past the desk. “I might’ve jogged a little.”

Castiel found himself stepping towards slowly, his eyes unable to leave Dean’s face. His eyes were glowing with something Castiel hadn’t seen in a long time. As Castiel drew closer, Dean’s grin grew more confident and wider. Dean’s eyes never seemed to leave his. Eventually he stopped right in front of Dean, hands clutching the strap of his bag tightly. “Dean, why are you here? I thought we were going to move on to the next stage, which, if Inias has said enough times, is awkward facebook messaging and texting.”

Green eyes flitted away from him for a second as Dean ducked his head briefly, a soft chuckle leaving his mouth. “I decided I couldn’t, and shouldn’t, skip out on another chance to apologize.”

“Dean.” Castiel lifted one of his hands towards Dean, but Dean just caught it and held it firmly.

He shook his head. “No, I need to get this out, that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Castiel couldn’t reply because Dean’s fingers were warm and comforting around his hand, and his touch had been something he’d been craving for so long he wasn’t sure what to do with it anymore. Dean inhaled deeply before continuing, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking you for granted and for not trusting you with my emotions like you did with me. I’m sorry for overreacting and I’m sorry that you talked me into keeping the apartment. I’m sorry I kept the sweater and I’m sorry I didn’t clean the apartment for a couple weeks. I’m sorry I let your plant die and I’m very sorry that it’s taken me so long to realize that I need to tell you these things. I’m sorry I let this go so far and I’m sorry for not making you feel as loved as you deserve.”

Swallowing thickly, Castiel couldn’t help the short laugh that left his throat. “Is that all?”

Dean laughed too, raising Castiel’s hand and kissing it before tenderly running his thumbs over the back of it. “I’m incredibly sorry, more so than I have been about anything in my entire life, and I love you so much. Will you please let me try to fix this--fix us?”

His heart puttered sporadically in his chest, and he focused on it just long enough for a pause. He thought about everything he’d been through the past few weeks, how he’d gone through stages of anger and sadness, and how despite anything he was feeling, the predominant one was missing Dean.

Castiel used the hand Dean held and pulled him in for a kiss, his other hand reaching up to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean embraced the kiss like he’d been afraid of never breathing again, and Castiel could sympathize. It didn’t last as long as probably either of them would’ve liked, but it was also difficult to keep kissing when there was a distinct sound of clapping echoing around them. They broke apart, and Castiel felt his face pink when he saw the receptionist watching them, her hands clasped in front of her and a giant smile on her face.

“Rachel, I--”

She shook her head, and gestured for them to leave. “No need to explain; just get out of here.”

Dean and Castiel glanced at each other, smiles wide. As they exited the building, hands held and swaying between them, Dean asked, “Wanna go home, Cas?”

Resting his head on Dean’s shoulder, Castiel squeezed his hand as he replied, “Home sounds nice.”


End file.
